


Dark Places

by Bookwyrm743



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bank Robbery, Business Lexa, Crimeboss Clarke, Organized Crime, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwyrm743/pseuds/Bookwyrm743





	Dark Places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wanheda89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanheda89/gifts).



“Everyone, keep your asses on the floor, twiddle your thumbs and nobody gets hurt!” The thin young woman holding the shotgun shouted. As she is holding a shotgun, pretty much everyone did as they were told, and the two guys in the corner who didn’t, well she kicked them so hard they hit the ground face first.

One of them got a nosebleed, but I don’t think she was really concerned with that. “Jewelry, wallets and valuables, take them off and pass them to my partner.” The taller guy with the batman voice called. That one had some kind of assault rifle looking thing, and I’m not a fan of imitating swiss cheese on the best of days.

I removed my watch, and slid my rings off my fingers, holding them tightly. When the woman held out her bag, I put my things in there with my wallet. I don’t understand why they have to even bother with our wallets, all our cards and ID’s will be changed as soon as we get out of here anyway. This is so- she shook the bag again. “We said jewelry, take off the damn necklace.” The girl snapped at me.

My necklace? I looked up at her, covering the small pendant with my hand, “Please, it’s not worth anything to anyone but me. I promise.”

The girl’s face drained of blood and she backed up, “Bell!”

Her partner jumped off his sentry spot on the counter and walked over, frowning at his partner, “What is it?”

She pointed at me. He looked over at me, and now everyone is looking at me, and they’re arguing about something quietly. And then they’re giving me my things back? They finished up their business in three minutes and were out of the doors with one last fearful look at me.

What the hell just happened?

The police arrived five minutes later, searching the whole facility, rounded us all up and started carting us all to the police station for statements. A couple of people were allowed to leave for matters of business, and the guy with the nosebleed stayed with the ambulance.

I however, have no such excuses. Sure, I run my own company, but I run it, so it’s not like I’m worried about my boss crawling up my ass about being held back for a few hours. I called the office to let my secretary know to clear my schedule, but after that I just had to sit around and wait.

I sat beside a detective’s desk for probably two hours before I noticed a small gathering by the printer, and a lot of eyes on me. They were trying to be subtle about it, but after years of dodging the press, I know what it feels like to be watched. I raised an eyebrow at the first one who made the mistake of meeting my eyes and they blanched and ducked their head.

They must have said something to the others because not a minute later, one of them walked over to me with a thick folder. “Hi, I’m Detective Lincoln Forrester. Sorry about those guys, it’s not every day we get a celebrity in here.” 

I pursed my lips and shook the offered hand. “I highly doubt they care about my status as a business owner, unless one of them is particularly obsessed with high quality art supplies.” I glanced over at the group that was still watching me, then back to the detective, “What is all of this about Detective?”

He sighed, “Ms. Woods, do you know this woman?” He pulled a picture out of his folder and set it on the desk in front of me.

Oh my god. I gasped and picked the image up to study it. Her face has thinned out and her hair! She cut it so short.. God, I remember running my hand through those golden locks and how soft they were. She colored the ends, and even as a faded pink, somehow it suited her. The anger and leather exterior are just the same as she’s always been, but it’s still there. That hint of a smile at the edge of her eyes.

“Ms. Woods?”

I blinked and looked up. Right, I’m in the police station. It’s not high school again, sneaking kisses behind the bleachers with my sweetheart. “Clarke, her name is Clarke Griffin.”

The detective raised his eyebrows, “Griffin?” He scribbled the name down on a notepad, “Do you know if she has any contact with her family?”

I shook my head, studying the imperious curve of her eyebrow in the image. It looked like one of the many shots taken of me in a candid moment. Blurred around the edges, partially obscured by something in front of the camera. “She’s always had a strained relationship with her mother, especially after her father died.” Why are they asking me about Clarke? “What’s going on here? Is Clarke involved in this somehow?”

“She goes by the name Wanheda, according to our sources it means-”

“Commander of death.” I finished, “I know.” That’s the tag she used on all of her murals in school. Clarke’s graffiti was always amazing. I wanted to tell him about it and brag about my insanely talented girlfriend, but.. Well she isn’t mine anymore, and I doubt she would appreciate getting arrested for graffiti from years ago. “She thought it sounded so badass.” I grinned, remembering the hours she would spend trying to come up with something appropriately cool and meaningful.

Lincoln nodded, “Okay, well your friend has been running an international crime syndicate.” Oh shit. “As far as we can tell, that robbery was a hit she scheduled, and your presence is the only thing that stopped the robbers from cleaning out the vault.”

“Me?” I frowned, “I didn’t do anything. I followed instructions, they’re the ones who freaked out.”

“Exactly, they split early because they knew you. You’re whitelisted, no one is allowed to touch you or your assets.”

“Seriously?” That’s kind of sweet. Even know she’s still trying to take care of me, big softie. “So then what exactly do you want from me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “This is going to sound pretty awful, but we need to know if you are still in contact with Clarke.”

I shook my head, “No, I knew her from high school. We- that doesn’t matter. It’s been a long time.” A lot of lonely nights and silent regrets since then. “We haven’t talked in almost a decade, and until today I assumed she was just another normal person.”

“Okay, no need to get defensive. I just need to know that you aren’t a part of all of this. If I’m being honest, we’ve suspected your company as being accomplice to some of her activities if only because you haven’t ever been hit by her group.”

Excuse me? You fucking what? The detective sat up a bit, moving away from me, “You know what, I think we’re done here. If you need me, you can contact me through my lawyers.” I flicked a business card into his lap and stalked out. How dare he accuse me of anything like that? The whole reason we broke up was because my parents couldn’t handle their precious heiress being involved with a directionless delinquent.

I made it through the whole precinct before everything hit me. I rounded the corner and pressed myself against the brick, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling through my head. I pulled out my phone and hit the first number on speed dial. “Hey Lex, I heard there was a robbery at your bank, are you good?”

“I need you to find Clarke.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not good. I need you to find out where Clarke lives. Please.” I looked down and realized that I still had her picture clenched in my fist.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” I could almost hear Anya nodding through the phone, “You want the dish now, or do you want to come in? You sound like you need to have some time.”

I need to see her, I  _ need _ to see her. “Just tell me.”

“Okay miss snippy.” Anya didn’t sound pleased, but Clarke is out there, taking care of me even after I broke her heart and she’s gorgeous. “She lives in town actually, I’m texting you the address now. Just, don’t do anything stupid oaky?”

“No promises.” That’s a lie, I promise I am going to do something very stupid. Very very stupid. “Brunch on tuesday right?”

“Brunch is for corporate pussies.”

I snorted, “Love you too sis.” I hung up on her and flagged down a taxi. I gave the address and shook my head. Her building is just a few blocks away from my own apartment and I seriously doubt that that’s an accident.

I tapped out a rapid beat on my knee, mentally noting the way that my nails dug into my thigh. I need to get them cut again, before my assistant insists that I go to another salon. I barely have time to eat, let alone waste a few hours on the spa ‘experience’.

“Hot date?” The driver asked, looking me over through the rear mirror.

I’m sure the business suit and perfectly coiffed hair on this side of town scream date, I rolled my eyes, if I were going to meet a date I wouldn’t be dressed so formally.  _ “Sweatpants and a hoodie, that’s my dream date.” _

I bit my cheek.Clarke has always been a casual person, and her voice in my head just made everything seem to spin a little bit. I shouldn’t just be rushing towards her apartment that Anya found, probably through some kind of illegal means. I shouldn’t be looking for my ex right after her people(?) robbed my bank. And I definitely shouldn’t be doing this with my head spinning like a top at the mere memory of her voice.

This is very, very stupid.

I tossed a twenty at the cabbie and got out as soon as we arrived at the address. The building is big, nice, it has a doorman and everything. Thank god, otherwise I would have to call Anya again and deal with her bitching about me hanging up on her. I walked up to the desk and the skinny boy managing it. He didn’t exactly scream classy with the top button of his shirt undone and a pair of goggles nestled in his messy hair, but I’m not exactly concerned with it.

“I’m here to see Clarke Griffin.”

He looked up and raised his eyebrow, “Nice to meet you too. Name?”

“Alexandria Woods.”

He looked down at a paper list on a clipboard. What is this, a club? “Nope, don’t see your name.”

“Lex. Try just Lex.” Leave it to Clarke to put down my nickname on her stupid visitation list. God, if he says it’s there I’m going to strangle her.

The guy didn’t even bother looking at his list. He just swallowed, “Penthouse.” He held an arm out towards the elevators. He waited for me to pass, but I glanced over my shoulder and he was talking into an intercom looking like the grim reaper was coming for his ass.

Maybe the stuff about Clarke’s gang thing wasn’t so far fetched. I got into the first elevator and hit the penthouse button. Instead of dinging, playing stupid music and moving, the elevator remained still. “Name?”

Seriously? “Lex.” I said again, wincing at the word. No one calls me that anymore, no one dares to incite my wrath with that god damn nickname, no one but Clarke.

The doors closed, and the elevator did its thing. Slowly.

So slowly.

I feel like I’m dying.

Is this how people feel when going to my office?

Ding!

“Thank god.” I muttered, stepping out into an ornate hallway. Normally the penthouse would have its own elevator that enters into the living space, but this feels more like an office building. A couple of people milling around and conversing over some paperwork, and a tall young man approached me.

“Come with me.” He gestured and turned around. This is weird.

I followed him through the hall, noting the artwork that was scattered across the walls. Most of them bigger works with a familiar ‘wanheda’ scrawled across the bottom right corner. Some of them were not hers though, I guess she’s not as convinced that everyone else sucks as she was before we broke up. 

He took me into a large empty office, the back wall, instead of being a window was a large painting of Polis tower, at the very top was a small flame, and it towered over the rest of the city scape in a way that is definitely not accurate, but is still flattering. I guess I’m not the only one still caught up in the past. Right where the base of that flame sat, that is the corporate office for Wood Inc.

I moved towards one of the chairs to wait and the young man shook his head, “This way ma’am.”

Okay? I did as I was told, following him through a door in the back of the office and up a flight of stairs into an odd little entryway. “She’s waiting for you.” He said before leaving me alone at the door.

Shit. Shit shit shit. 

I stared at the door.

Like an idiot.

A stupid, terrified, brain-dead idiot.

What the hell am I doing here?

I turned around to leave. She knows I’m here. What kid of a trash panda would I be if I let her know I was coming and I just left? She doesn’t deserve that, not after how I treated her. God why the hell am I here?

I turned around again and there she was. In sweatpants and one of my old hoodies, her hands stained with paint. “...Hi.” God she is gorgeous.

“Hi.” Clarke swallowed, her jaw almost as stiff as her posture, “Did you want something?”

“Your people robbed my bank.” Oh my god I did not just say that.

Clarke raised an eyebrow and all of a sudden I’m back in her house trying to sneak out in the middle of the night and Abby Griffin is starting at me and threatening to call my parents if she finds me here again. “Come back when you have evidence.” She snapped, turning around.

“Wait!” I reached out and stopped before I could touch her. I don’t deserve that chance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you lived here or I would have…” What would I have done? I didn’t get out from mother’s thumb until Anya helped me take over the company in one of the most savage forced retirements I think anyone’s ever partaken in without actively breaking the law.

“Accused me of robbing a bank?” Clarke tossed over her shoulder, “Or wasted my time standing in my doorway and throwing off my employees?”

“I’m sorry.” I should leave. I should, but then I’ve been doing stupid things all day. What’s one more on the list? I followed her. Like an idiot. “Clarke stop.”

She turned around, lit by the sunlight streaming into the open apartment. Unlike every other penthouse I’ve been in, it feels like she lives in a giant fishbowl, the whole world spreading out beneath us, and the sun lighting up every mistake I’ve ever made. “What do you want Lex?” Her anger is glorious, it always has been. But underneath it is hurt. That’s my fault.

“I screwed up.” I walked over, “And you’ve been dealing with that like, like an amazing person. You’ve been protecting me, and living in the same city, and I’ve been an oblivious idiot for ignoring you all these years.”

Clarke looked me over, “I don’t know that you’re an idiot, you’ve had some things on your mind.” She dug through the fridge and pulled out a pair of beers, “Want one?”

Normally I wouldn’t. But nothing about today is normal. “Sure.” My voice sounded so small.

Clarke popped the lids off and offered me a bottle, “I heard about your mother, brutal stuff even for me.”

I ducked my head. Of course my crime boss ex-girlfriend would want to talk about that. “I learned from the best.”

Clarke allowed herself a smile, “Normally I would take credit for that, but which of our mothers are you talking about?”

“I don’t even know.” I admitted, “But she deserved it. If she didn’t want those records revealed, then she shouldn’t have used company assets to pay for it.”

“That’s my girl.” Clarke chuckled, raising her beer in a toast. I can’t tell you how good it felt to hear her call me that again. Her smile faded and Clarke looked down at the floor, “So what are you doing here Lex? You said your apology, did your bit.”

“Clarke..” I don’t even know why, or what, but I’m here. I’m here for you, but I can’t just say that. I can’t just rip out her heart again, and I don’t even know if that’s something she even wants.

“Don’t say that.” She muttered, turning away.

What did I do now? “Say what?”

“My name, like nothing even happened.”

She looked so sad and alone, hunched over in her kitchen. I didn’t think. I set my drink down and wrapped my arms around her, my head on her shoulder, “I’m stupid, and easily intimidated, and I let my mother control my life. And instead of doing something about it, I just went after her and left you picking up the pieces.”

Clarke scoffed, “If this is your idea of an apology, it’s not half bad.”

“I’ve been practicing it in the mirror for a while now.”

“Poor mirror.”

I smiled a little, feeling her begin to relax in my arms. “It suffered a lot.” I closed my eyes and pressed a light kiss to her shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

There was a knock at the door and Clarke straightened, stepping out of my arms. “I’ll be back.” She walked around me and answered the door, talking with a thin woman with high cheekbones and a jaw that could cut glass. I shook my head and took a sip of my beer.

Of course there’s a woman, or a dozen women. Who knows what kind of love life a crime lord would want? “So, a few people rob a bank and you decide it must have been me?” Clarke leaned against the counter next to me.

“Not really. The police were trying to get some information on you, I gave them your name.” I winced, “I didn’t know.”

“Oh it’s fine, they can’t touch me anyway.” Clarke shrugged, “I’m surprised it took them this long, but I guess Rae did her job well when she said she scrubbed my records.”

“Running from your past?” I joked half-heartedly. All that hope, that brief hope that maybe I could fix things with Clarke, all of it disappeared down the drain. God, I just want to go home and pretend that this day never happened.

“Just you.”

“Oh.” She never wanted to see me again, and here I am ruining things again. “I’ll just go then.”

“That’s it then? You’re sorry and you’re gone?” Clarke snapped, the anger back.

“I shouldn’t have come.” This was so stupid. What is wrong with me? “I’m sorry Clarke.”

“No, you don’t get to do this again.” She grabbed me and shoved me back against the wall, “You don’t get to walk into my house and pretend to be sorry Lex.”

I bit my lip, overwhelmed with her presence, her anger and her closeness. “How do you always do this to me?” One minute I’m in control, and the next all I can do is pray she kisses me.

She locked eyes with me, searching for something and then her lips were on mine. We lost ourselves in each other. I vaguely remember my phone ringing on the floor somewhere between my blouse and Clarke’s pants.

Someone knocked on the door somewhere between the counter and the couch, and it definitely happened sometime between her legs, but neither of us cared. Neither of us were cognizant of the world, or anything happening around us. It was just us.

I woke up to the sound of Anya’s ringtone. “I don’t know who you pissed off, but can you shut them up?” Clarke croaked from my shoulder.

I closed my eyes for a second, hoping she wouldn’t call again. Her tone started up again and I groaned. I climbed out of the warm cocoon of blankets and Clarke and stumbled over to my phone, “What?”

“You done making out with your ex? We have some clients here that you were supposed to meet with twenty minutes ago.”

“What?” I turned a full circle and started fishing my clothes out of the trail around the apartment, “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“I did.” Anya snapped, “Now move your ass. I can handle these guys, but you have three more appointments today and I would like to avoid strangling our clients.”

I closed my eyes, “When is the next one?”

“You have an hour.”

“Perfect.” One day out of the office and everything falls apart. And by that I mean that I screwed the pooch and now I’m paying for it. So much for being the boss. “I’ll be there.”

Clarke’s head was just high enough off the pillow to indicate that she was awake, and her eyebrow lifted in my direction. “I have a couple meetings today, I spaced and Anya is well, you know how she is about people. I’m sure I’ll have to sweeten the deal for our clients just to make up for her behavior.” I hesitated. I don’t want to just leave her like this, like this didn’t mean something to me.

“Go.” Clarke gave me a smirk, “I’ll have my people talk to your people.”

“You’re amazing.” I climbed back into bed half dressed and kissed her, taking my time to show her my appreciation. “We need to talk about the bank robbing thing though.” I murmured. I would like to not have guns pointed at me again.

Clarke smiled up at me, “Sounds like we should talk over dinner.”

“Pizza on the couch?” I raised my eyebrows.

“You know me too well.” Clarke kissed me one last time and smacked my hip, “Now get out, I need my beauty sleep, and you are going to be late.”

Maybe we haven't really solved any of the history between us. Maybe we have a lot of talking to do about all of this organized crime business, and all the pots that Clarke has her fingers in, but at least we've established that no one shoots me?

She settled back down into her pillow, but I felt her eyes on me all the way to the door.

Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea.


End file.
